


A Wing and a Prayer

by Xyriath



Category: Voltron: Legendary Defender
Genre: Angel Shiro (Voltron), Drider Keith (Voltron), M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-09-21
Updated: 2020-09-21
Packaged: 2021-03-07 19:06:50
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,441
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26572666
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Xyriath/pseuds/Xyriath
Summary: Injured during a storm while trying to return to the mountain of the gods, Shiro finds himself rescued by an unexpected and yet utterly fascinating stranger.
Relationships: Keith/Shiro (Voltron)
Comments: 2
Kudos: 30





	A Wing and a Prayer

**Author's Note:**

> Written for Monster Sheith zine!

Dark and stormy nights, Keith thought miserably, couldn’t have made his life harder if they had been designed to do so.

For all Keith knew, though, they were, to a point. At least the ones that came here. After all, if he was already considered an aberration by the gods, why shouldn’t this be punishment for existing?

He skittered across the ground, curling up in one of his nests, tucked in a corner of the cave he called home. He eyed the entrance mistrustfully: despite his hatred of storms, he didn’t dare retreat to the depths of the cave. With the vibrations from the thunder and rain on the cliff’s side, he could never tell which tremors were nature and which might be an intruder. He’d had humans try to sneak in before, wanting to slay the “beast” that lay within or convinced enough that some secret treasure was hidden in his den to try to creep in during a distraction—

_ SMACK! _

Keith jumped up in alarm as something crashed through the mouth of his cave.

He reared up on his hind legs, sharp appendages lashing out in a threatening display at the intruder, hissing dangerously, prepared to defend his home.

But the lump on the ground didn’t move.

Returning to all eight legs, Keith approached it with extreme caution, nudging it with a foreleg. It felt like a human, was about the same size and shape, but it wasn’t moving…

It groaned, shifting slightly, and that’s when Keith saw the wings.

His throat tightened at the sight: huge and white and feathered, one twisted awkwardly, limp against the rock of the cave. Both made their way to a strong, bare, muscular back.

An angel, then. The hatred in his gut twisted; far from punishment, the gods must have sent him a meal. It’s the only fate that a creature such as this deserved, after all. He thrust sharply, turning the angel onto its back, prepared to wrap it in webbing…

And then froze.

Instead of ferocious or judgmental, as Keith had expected from the stories he’d heard, the angel’s expression had an unexpected softness to it that tightened Keith’s chest in an entirely different way. What’s more, Keith hadn’t expected him to be so breathtakingly handsome. His hair, though soaked by the rain, seemed to be a soft, pure white, and his lack of a shirt—indeed, he wore nothing but a loincloth—displayed a toned, muscled physique. His right arm gleamed a shiny gold, clearly some magical appendage that Keith couldn’t even begin to comprehend. Keith flushed as a sparkle on the chest caught his attention, and he realized that through each nipple, the angel wore a golden piece of jewelry.

He knew that his own ghastly appearance was due to a curse from the gods, punishment for the blasphemy of his parents, marking him as an abomination. So what did that mean for someone so beautiful? Could a creature that looked like  _ this _ truly be a being of cruelty as his father had said?

Keith swallowed, years of old fear warring with a new sensation, one he’d never experienced before. It swooped in his stomach, the giddiness a startling contrast to the fear. He watched, taking in the handsome man and his peaceful expression. The webbing had already built within his chest. He could wrap up this intruder, stow him away and feed slowly for weeks to come.

Keith lifted his forelegs to his mouth.

—

Shiro woke to a dull, aching pain in his back.

Though he shifted slightly as he regained consciousness, he soon learned that his back wasn’t the only thing that hurt. Ow.  _ Ow. _ His entire body, actually, ached like it had been battered and tossed within an avalanche of tumbling rocks—

His memory spilled unevenly into place at the thought—is that what happened? He thinks so, can remember rocks and cliffs and a  _ storm _ —

_ The storm. _ Shiro gasped and tried to sit up.

Once again, however, his entire body screamed its protest, and he fell backwards with a groan, lifting his right hand to cover his face in defeat. Though taking on a mortal form to visit this world had its benefits, he would never grow used to the weaknesses that came with it.

A skittering sound caught his ears, and his eyes snapped open in sudden wakefulness. Something  _ big _ lurked in the darkness, something…

“Oh,” a soft voice sounded, echoing. A cave, then.

Shiro squinted, eyes adjusting to the darkness with inhuman speed.

Rock above him, confirming what his ears already knew. A dim light, too; he’d slept until morning, at least.

But no sight of whatever had caused the noise.

With another groan, he pushed himself up, slower this time. His body appreciated the care he took, and though it protested, it didn’t inflict complete agony upon him. He glanced over his shoulder, attempting to extend the wing with trepidation. He had to muffle a yelp as pain stabbed through it.

Broken. Definitely broken. But to his hazy bewilderment, it didn’t seem to be twisted in the way he would expect; it had not only been set, but wrapped in some sort of string, as well.

Taking heart in this new knowledge, he glanced around for whoever had treated him.

Another skittering, and this time a flash of movement.

“Hello?” Shiro called, straining unsuccessfully to see whoever had cared for the wing. “It’s dark—I can’t see you. My name is Shiro.” Another flash of movement, and this time, it seemed to withdraw, as if… afraid. Shiro put on his kindest expression. “Thank you for wrapping my wing. What is this that you used?”

A pitter-patter, like several someones are pacing back and forth in nervousness.

Finally, a masculine voice, rough but youthful—and definitely uncertain—sounded from the darkness. “I made it.”

Shiro’s eyebrows shot up, but he didn’t want to scare his rescuer away with too many questions.

“That’s incredible. I’ve never met someone with that kind of talent.” Weavers and spinners, but this…

Silence. Shiro sighed, extending his hands to show that they were empty.

“You can come out, you know. I’m not going to hurt you. And I can’t see too well in the dark.”

More silence. And then some more. Shiro was about to give up when he caught yet another flicker of movement.

“You’ll be scared.”

Something about the defensiveness in the voice tugged at Shiro, and though he knew he had no right, he wanted to know what had happened to this young… man? To make him so wary. Shiro wanted to help.

“I won’t be. I promise. You helped me, so I know not to be frightened.” He continued smiling, knowing that it wasn’t that simple, but any little thing might help.

For a few moments, complete silence—had Shiro lost him?

But a quiet tip-tapping moved towards him, and an unfamiliar form finally stepped into the light.

Shiro’s eyes widened as he took in the sight before him. His rescuer had the face of a young man, angular features almost faelike in their beauty. Though the darkness obscured the color of his eyes, Shiro found himself wanting to get closer, see deeper. His gaze flicked down over the bare chest, well-built and firm, and then lower…

He inhaled sharply at the sight of pale skin transitioning into shiny black at the waist. Instead of a human abdomen and legs, the young man’s—though man wasn’t quite the right term—lower body was instead that of a spider, moving with an agility and grace quite unlike anything that Shiro had ever seen before, even during his time in heaven.

“Wow,” he breathed, unable to look away.

His rescuer froze, shoulders hunching defensively, and he turned as if to flee. “I told you—”

“No, no!” Shiro protested, reaching out his arm pleadingly. “No, don’t go—I’m not afraid. I promise.”

A pause, and a face framed in soft dark hair turned back towards Shiro. “You’re not?”

Shiro shook his head, still taking in the sight. “No, no. You’re—what’s your name?”

Another few moments of silence as Shiro found himself the victim of a rather wary glare.

Then—

“Keith.”

“Keith,” Shiro murmured, tilting his head in fascination. “You’re…”

“I know,” Keith broke in, shoulders hunching once more. “I know, I’m—”

“Beautiful.”

Keith’s head snapped up, expression absolutely flummoxed. “I’m what?”

“I’ve never seen anyone like you before.” Shiro’s eyes lingered a few moments more before he realized—

He winced. “Sorry. I’m being kind of rude, aren’t I? I wasn’t trying to— _ ah! _ ”

“Careful!” Keith skittered over, crouching next to Shiro’s wing. Shiro stayed still, the pain no longer quite so urgent at the warmth of his rescuer behind him. “I set it, but it’ll still take some time to heal.”

Shiro hadn’t broken a wing in decades, but he’d never forgotten how long he’d been grounded the last time. He knew the truth of Keith’s words.

“Well,” he sighed, doing his best to keep the morose tone out of his voice. “At least I’ll have good company.” His eyes slid up to Keith, lingering on the bare skin that was now so very close to him.

“What are you doing here, anyway?” Keith stammered, busying himself with checking Shiro’s wing, clearly eager to change the subject.

Shiro smiled faintly, allowing the reprieve. “I was flying home, to the mountain of the gods, when the storm hit. I thought I could make it. I guess I was wrong.”

“I guess you were,” Keith said forcefully, almost snapping the words. “Now—now get up!”

Shiro blinked, pushing himself to his feet. “What...?”

“I need to—you’re heavy! I can’t move you as far as I need. Come  _ on. _ ”

Shiro hurried along after Keith, surprised at his nimbleness, barely managing to keep up as they elephant* deeper into the mountain. Shiro had to squint to see anything, and it was only the small flashes of shadow against the faintly glowing fungus growing on the cave’s walls that kept Shiro from becoming completely lost.

As he rounded a corner, he staggered back at the sudden brightness that assaulted his eyes.

“What—!” he yelped, lifting an arm to cover his eyes as he adjusted to the light. “Where... are we outside?”

Keith scoffed, and Shiro turned in the direction of the voice. “No way. I don’t ever go outside. It’s too dangerous.”

Instead of arguing, Shiro lowered his arm slowly, looking around as his eyes adjusted.

And as he took in the sight, he gasped.

Before him, a glittering jewel of a waterfall tumbled into a pool of perfect cerulean. Lush greenery grew up walls of stone, dotted with flowers and formations that Shiro had never seen before. As he tilted his head back, spinning around, he spotted a small circle of daylight, far, far above them, but amplified by countless crystals embedded into the cave wall to create the illusion of being outside.

If Keith had somewhere like this, Shiro supposed he couldn’t fault him for not needing to go to the surface.

“Almost as beautiful as you,” he murmured.

Keith scoffed again, shaking his head, and Shiro smiled to himself as Keith pointed to a pile of rocks, pale cheeks flushed pink.

Shiro only sat obediently, and Keith turned away, hurrying off once again.

He had just enough time to start worrying that Keith wouldn't return before the tell-tale noise of the spider's legs rang throughout the cavern once again. Shiro tilted his head, watching with curiosity, as Keith thrust a handful of berries at him.

"You'll need these."

Shiro accepted them delicately, inspecting them with furrowed brow. "What are they?"

"I need to change your bandages. This will keep it from hurting. Well, as badly as it could."

The pain from earlier was still fresh enough in his memory to make the berries sound like a very appealing prospect.

He popped one in his mouth.

They resembled mint, just a bit, with a faint fruity aftertaste, numbing his mouth a little like spicy food would. In all, angels generally couldn't be poisoned, so that didn't worry him too much, and as the floating sensation began to spread through him, his muscles relaxed almost of their own volition.

"Oh," he said softly, turning to look at Keith, feeling a little like he was moving through water. "That's... that's strange. But quite nice..."

Keith offered his arm, and Shiro accepted it automatically, standing. He was so nice. So  _ pretty. _ Shiro wanted to...

He gasped as something cold splashed up against his bare feet, and he glanced down to see that Keith had led him into the water.

And that wasn't the only thing. He frowned, bending forward to get a closer look at his legs. They were so  _ dirty _ , probably a result of his crash through the mud last night...

"Careful! You'll fall over!"

Right as Shiro began to tip over, Keith pulled him back up. He giggled, grabbing his arm, only halfway on purpose. "My savior!"

"Yeah, yeah. Just—just clean up, okay? Before you drown or something."

Shiro scrubbed at himself obediently, the dirt washing off into the perfect pool. More than once, Shiro caught himself staring into its depths, fascinated with the shifting colors...

...Only for Keith to nudge him out of the trance.

"Yeah, they've taken effect now," he muttered, and Shiro turned, tilting his head and grinning easily.

"Huh?"

Keith shook his head. "Never mind." He took Shiro's arm again, tugging him back over to the rocks. Once Shiro sat, he began to unravel the bandages from his injured wing.

As promised, Shiro barely noticed the pain. Instead, so much more caught his interest: the glimmering walls, the brilliant foliage, the... Keith...

There was just something so  _ appealing _ about the roundness of his... what was it, his abdomen? Lower body? Shiro should probably know, but it would be rude to ask...

On an impulse, he reached out with his golden hand, placing his hand on the brilliant red marking and running it up and down.

So smooth, just as he’d thought, and yet remarkably soft...

“W-what are you doing?!” Keith sputtered, whirling to gape at him.

Shiro... Shiro didn’t really know. He just shrugged, smiling easily.

“I just... you’re so...”

The water glimmered, and Shiro turned to grin at it.

“Just like you,” he murmured.

“You’re ridiculous,” Keith grumbled, tying off the wing splint.

“Maybe.” Shiro turned back to beam at his rescuer. Keith. A wonderful name. And Shiro—trapped here for at least another month. Alone. Together.

Flightless or not, Shiro had a feeling that he was going to like it here.


End file.
